


L’Inconnu

by LadyVader



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Girl!Draco, HP: EWE, M/M, PWP, Polyjuice Potion, Pseudo Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-30
Updated: 2010-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader/pseuds/LadyVader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ‘lil afternoon delight with a Polyjuice twist. (EWE)</p>
            </blockquote>





	L’Inconnu

Draco Malfoy trembled, his body drawn tight as a bow string, his back arched and shuddering in its efforts to not simply shatter under the strain, chest heaving as he fought for breath beyond the moans filling his mouth.

His thighs were spread wide, too wide apart, each knee slipping just over the edge of the mattress on the single bed, his muscles cramping, and the persistent burn of overuse becoming all part of the myriad sensations storming his body.

An embarrassingly loud whimper spilled past his lips as his neck locked once more, his position increasingly painful as he craned his neck to watch the proceedings in the mirrors, huge, gilt framed monstrosities seemingly spelled to point directly at the bed.

His breath caught, spots vying for clarity before his eyes, blurring the reflection as he stared, lost in the image it presented, the thick blunt cock spearing its way up through his pale, parted buttocks, its flushed, snub head up against his hole, his hips rocking to keep it pushing in then out then in again with excruciating, _exhilarating_ slowness.

He let out a startled yelp as rough fingers suddenly seized him below the hinge of his jaw, turning him to face the man beneath him. The fingers released his jaw only to slap smartly, stingingly across his cheek, the swift pain of the blow shocking Draco to his core, tears springing to his already wide and burning eyes.

“Hey, you look at me, understand?” The words were a growl, a command and Draco nodded mutely, wet parted lips sliding slickly against the other mans as he gasped, his sensitive nipples tweaked by seemingly callous fingers. “You can watch but don’t you _dare_ forget who’s fucking you, don’t you dare…”

Draco would have laughed or snorted derisively had he the presence of mind or breath to do so but the tongue in his mouth was doing wicked things to his thought process.

Don’t dare forget? He somewhat doubted that he would ever be able to forget the fateful moment Harry Potter put his cock inside him.

~  
(earlier that day)

“Well when CAN he see me?” Draco enquired frostily, shifting from foot to foot in irritation.

The stenowitch briefly flicked her wand to and fro over the large, leather bound diary on her desk before tutting absently. “I’m afraid the Professor has several lectures and examinations over the next few weeks, I couldn’t begin to expect him to have a free moment for a ‘chat’ no matter how much you think he may be interested. However, if you would care to make an appointment and leave a note stating as to what your meeting would pertain..?”

“Look,” Draco snarled, leaning forward to brace both hands on the old bats desk, “What I have ‘created’ is beyond confidential, totally and utterly classified and NOT something I would prefer to leave lying around in note form. Professor Kramer won’t be interested in what I have to show him, he will be DEVASTATED as he has yet to do more than theorise about a potion of such wondrous complexity. Now, I want an appointment with him, I want it tomorrow and I ‘don’t’ want to leave either name or notation, got it?”

The stenowitch cowered under the admittedly fearsome gaze of the blond towering over her before squeaking, “Would 2:15pm suffice?”

“Two Fifteen would be perfection.” Draco purred before spinning to saunter towards the lifts.

He was trembling, not so much from fury but from being close enough to his goal to both taste it and fear the consequences. He was brilliant, there was no doubt about that and his creation would be heralded as a new phase in potions making for possibly decades yet to come… but he was a Malfoy. It was all too easy to picture a scenario where they somehow stripped this from him too, his only real achievement.

After several years of legal battles and extensive Ministry searches he had finally regained the Manor, his title and the family funds but he had done it all for his Mother. Her pride in the name went on long after it had become sullied and dim, and he had promised to restore it to its former glory as she lay dying, still beautiful and determined and he’d have been damned had he let them rob him of the final chance to do her proud.

But that was his only achievement 'til now. His family hadn’t come out well after the war, they hadn’t defected to the side of light, but they hadn’t decried the Dark Lord either leaving them stranded between victory and villainy. Despite his and his mothers grudging pardons (bequeathed by none other than the stinking Saviour of all), their new status had robbed him of their former alliances and friends who might otherwise have been pleased to know him as he slowly became a man worthy of the name, the reputation he was working so hard to rebuild. Between that and his admittedly bisexual tendencies over the years he had become something of a pure-blooded pariah.

If it hadn’t been for Potter’s testimony and his insistence that Draco and his mother be viewed as ‘war casualties’ all but forced into servitude then Draco might have suffered rather more than his brief jail sentence and 2 year probationary period (part house arrest, part induction to the muggle way of living – an interesting year Draco had begrudgingly admitted, but not one he’d be trading his wand in to relive) and his mother might have got the kiss, rather than slowly wasting away from a broken heart. Not an overly huge improvement there but it had the somewhat double edged benefit of granting Draco with those extra few years at her side, basking in her limitless love.

This - whatever came of it, all of it - was for Her.

With a subtle ‘ping’ the lift doors slid open and Draco stepped casually inside before allowing himself to slump, unseen as the doors slid slowly closed once more, hissing as he allowed himself to stop and let himself feel the pain in his feet.

Fucking stilettos.

~

Draco sobbed, low and desperately, the sound bursting from him without permission and long fingers squeezed his throat as he arched, pressing down against the insistent hardness trying to slide deeper inside him.

“You like that, hmm?” Potter whispered thickly, licking a stripe of wet and heat over Draco’s quivering, clenched jaw. “You like fucking yourself on me, like feeling my cock trying to jam its way into your ass?”

Draco sobbed again, scrunching his eyes tight shut and rocking ineffectively, wrists twisting and chafing yet further against the ties that had held him in place from seemingly mere moments after entering the room.

Harry Potter lay beneath him, darkly flushed and panting ever so slightly, Draco’s body arched over him, his hips low, thighs wide so he was positioned directly where Potter could push his cock up and into him. His wrists were tied by enchanted cord that had lashed out of Potter’s wand, binding his wrists together before knotting itself at the high, ornate bed head, the length kept short so that Draco couldn’t help but stay arched and taut between the bonds at his wrists and the cock piercing his body.

Potter kept one hand low, holding his cock steady and growling instructions to Draco between quick licks and nips at both his chest and mouth, commanding the gasping blond to move back and forth on him, forbidding him to take more than the hot, wet head inside himself.

“Tell me,” Potter grunted as Draco’s hole spasmed and clenched about his cock tip as the blond pushed back against it once more, “Tell me you like it. Tell me,” his free hand reached round to squeeze a plump buttock, roughly, “Tell me how much you love this.”

“Ghh…..I…. I love this…. I love this, love it…” Draco moaned, gently rotating his hips so the fat head rubbed round and against the rapidly loosening rim, slipping deeper in.

“What?” The brunet demanded thickly, teeth snapping and biting into the soft flesh at the curve of Draco’s jaw, the hollows of his collarbone, “What do you love? Say it…”

“I… ngh…. I love this, love, love you in, in my hole…. More, gods, please more…”

“You want to sit down on my cock, ride it hard? You want me to fuck you in your ass?”

“Yeah…yeah…yeah…. I want it... want it please… _please_?” Draco hissed, trying to push back and down onto the rock hard length and sobbing as Potter hauled him forwards, mouth blurring the words spoken harsh against his lips.

“More than you want it in your pussy?”

Draco pulled at his bonds and thrashed, breathless and shaking with need. “ _Yes_.” He replied, moaning when Potter stabbed his tongue and a fondly whispered “Slut” into his mouth.

~  
(earlier)

Draco smoothed his hands down over his skirt and scowled in annoyance.

In accordance to what he’d seen young Witches wearing these days he was wearing a smart (if sexy) skirt and floating, yet strictly tailored outer robe with the appropriately tight blouse and black, glossy heels.

Of course what he hadn’t realised was that the shoes would hurt like a bitch, the lining of the skirt would make it hitch up with every step and the blouse would barely do up over his ample (not to mention new) breasts.

Still, he’d managed to get an appointment and a practice run of his new and improved polyjuice could only help him during the ‘chat’ with Kramer tomorrow.

He’d been ‘Ruby’ for a little under a week now, albeit mostly in his own clothes, and the annoying thing was that the mild dosage would run out at roughly midday tomorrow and had he thought about it, he could have insisted upon an earlier appointment and let the exalted Professor see exactly who he was dealing with as the potion wore off. No matter though, he could simply take the antidote before him once his admittedly hot female alter ego had got the womanising old gits attention.

Draco straightened and assumed a neutral expression as the lift halted, doors sliding open to admit another passenger, eyes widening in shock as none other than Harry bloody Potter and Ron fucking Weasley stepped in beside him.

Swallowing and flushing in horror he attempted to keep his eyes fixed forward, staring at the numbers lighting up as the lift began its ascent once more, the despair of being caught in women’s clothes by the two worst people possible lessening considerably when he caught both wizards give him an appreciative stare before continuing their conversation.

“Seriously Harry…. Harry…. Harry? You listening, mate? Ok, well anyway, I’m serious, you need to come out with me and the others, I mean, I know how hard it was after you and Ginny… well, y’know, but you’re not going to meet anyone this way, you can’t just wait for something to just fall out of the sky, I mean don’t you always say it’s the stuff you have to work hard for that’s worth having? I mean how likely are _you_ of all people to find someone _that_ easily?”

“Pretty fucking unlikely Ron, I get it. Don’t worry, I have plans. I’ll fill you in another time, just you go get back to work and I’ll see you later, I’ve got a pressing engagement now, ok?”

Then Potter simply pushed him gently out through the reopening doors and waved bye to him, the redhead stammered “But… but Harry?” semi crossly, concern wrinkling his freckled forehead 'til something made him smile, the lift doors closing with a gentle click on the twats increasing mirth.

Draco risked a glance sideways, noting the brunets appreciative stare at the same time he found himself somewhat appreciating the Man who was once the Boy who Lived.

“Don’t I know you?” Potter purred softly, his interest only slightly less than blatantly obvious.

Draco shook his head, unable to help the colour suffusing his cheeks, “No, I… no.” He said quietly, wishing the stenowitch had fucked him about for longer or even that Weasley had stayed or that he wasn’t polyjuiced as a _frikkin' woman_!

A large hand was abruptly proffered. “Perhaps we could rectify that, I’m Harry Potter.” He said smoothly and Draco blinked.

“I know who you are.” He whispered unintentionally, discomfited when Potter’s easy grin became a somewhat more sensual smoulder as Draco placed his hand in his.

“Well then it would seem you have the advantage on me… perhaps you’ll give me the chance to even the score as it were, that is, unless you already have plans for lunch?”

Draco shook his head again, aware of his hair swinging about his shoulders at the motion, the only true part of him showing past the potion, chest tight with apprehension as Potter stepped closer.

“Is that ‘no’ you don’t have plans or ‘no’,” he breathed, “you won’t give me the chance?”

Draco swallowed and lifted charmed brown eyes to intently focused green.

“Uhm…” he began haltingly, quietening as Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world, stepped his pulling technique up by a notch or two.

“Please?” He said, stroking the back of the hand he still held, and smiled.

~

He’d been so scared when they entered the hotel room, head still spinning from Potter’s subtle seduction after lunch and his own raging curiosity, thoughts muddled enough that he became unsure of his own product.

What if his fake vagina didn’t have the appropriate opening?

What if his true innards couldn’t produce the natural wetness and got damaged?

What if he turned back halfway through or at the point of orgasm?

_Could_ he even orgasm?

It had been fortunate really, that Potters first act after kissing Draco over the threshold had been to throw him onto the bed and call him a whore.

No gentle, tender afternoon sex for this hero, he was going to fuck Draco, fuck him hard, blast away his doubts with lust and finally scratch the itch that had dogged the blond for the last few years of his life.

It hadn’t taken the young Slytherin many years past his induction to Hogwarts to realise that he liked boys as much as girls (if not more) but it was only during the years alone, as a man that he became aware of the desire to not only fuck, but be fucked.

Of course, it wasn’t quite as easy as a simple life choice, rectifying his sexual practices, there were plenty of young Wizards who would gladly spread their legs for him in light of his pardon from the Ministry, but no one he could trust to fuck him without fucking him over. It was a simple matter of sense and patience. At some point he would be bound to find a man he could trust to drill him into the mattress… all he had to do was live with the longing for awhile.

Now, here was the perfect chance to find out without being found out. Harry bloody Potter of all people, twisting hands into his hair, holding him down then yanking off his panties and promising him not just a fucking but the sort of fucking that befit a whore who would pick up strange men in elevators.

“Going to fuck you, Pretty,” he’d whispered as he’d pressed his cock against Draco’s parted, gasping lips, “Going to fuck you like the slut you are… now tell me,” he’d pushed into Draco’s eager mouth, blond hair pulled tight in his fist so their eyes met and locked, “Anyone ever fucked you in that pretty ass of yours?”

And no one had… 'til now.

Draco whined as Potter surged up and bit at his lower lip before laying back down to spit roughly into his own palm, the blond rocking and groaning as he felt that hand dart down to spread the sticky wetness over the length of cock not yet inside him.

_“Please?_ ” Draco crooned, feeling knuckles brush teasingly against his twitching, clenching cheeks.

“Sit.” Harry commanded softly and Draco began to sink down, eyes wide, jaw dropped as he finally felt the thick length of heat pushing its way inside, his hole long stretched out by the repeated probing of Potter’s sticky cockhead.

“Wait.” The brunet said when Draco was roughly halfway down, his thigh muscles screaming with both the effort of starting and stopping, the blonds face falling forward against his quivering bicep, whimpering loudly as he abruptly felt both Potter’s hands grip his cheeks, fingers bruisingly tight against his soft flesh as they were dragged apart.

“Now you can watch,” Potter murmured thickly, leaning up to butt his nose against Draco’s hidden face, “Turn and watch me slide inside you…”

With supreme effort, Draco lifted his head, licking suddenly parched lips and ignoring every complaining, cramping nerve to turn and gaze over his shoulder, breath burning in his chest when he simply forgot to exhale, lost in the sight before him.

Potter’s hands, broad and long fingered, gripping him hard as that thick, turgid prick shoved inside him, Draco’s cry of triumph as much from the act of finally having every last inch inside him as it was from his own good judgement.

Thank god he’d learned Witchsight or else it might not have been his own body he saw Potter fucking in the mirror.

~

(earlier)

Lunch was a disaster.

Potter was charming, funny and positively wicked all at once and all wrapped up in a broad shouldered, leanly muscled, surprisingly compact package. Neither he or Draco would ever be considered tall but where Draco was slight and verging on willowy, Potter was all blunt edges and muscles and disturbingly obvious sex appeal.

More than that, he was equally obvious in his intentions, clearly interested, both in Draco’s newly fictional physical form but seemingly also in what he had to say.

It was devastating. Finally a Wizard Draco could really sink his teeth into (and would really like to at that) and he was only interested in what was (temporarily) in Draco’s silk knickers.

Potter had escorted him neatly from the ministry, a warm hand resting at the small of his back, apparating them both to a trendy restaurant in muggle London, all tall glass windows and warm afternoon light but Draco was too nervous to do more than pick listlessly at a crisp green salad and try to not stare too blatantly into Potter’s eyes.

Potter wasn’t really that attractive, he’d mused; unaware of the half smile on his face as the former Gryffindor repeatedly gesticulated with his half buttered roll as he spoke. Draco had had plenty of men who he would have classed as being far superior in the looks department but Potter… had _something_ , and whatever it was it worked for him. Draco laughed, he smiled, he even found himself blushing and almost simpering when he looked up to find heat in Potter’s eyes as he looked upon him, the familiar spectacles of years gone by oddly absent, leaving him with no barrier between his own feeble self-control and the focused heat of that heavy, green gaze.

Potter wanted him, or at least he wanted the body he was currently occupying and already Draco’s head was whirring with possibilities.

Could he simply proposition him?

Was Potter even the sort of bloke who would just jump into bed with a strange woman barely hours after meeting?

What would Draco do if he was?

Could he really ignore his own scruples and let the good ol’ boy wonder show him a good time and then go back to being the woefully unfucked?

What if Potter wasn’t any good?

Potter had then lifted a surprisingly gentle hand to run the soft pad of his thumb over Draco’s lower lip before pulling it back to briefly suck it into his mouth. “Dressing.” He’d explained huskily and Draco had decided then that Potter was very, _very_ good.

They’d been out on the street when the panic set in, hovering, shifting from foot to foot with long, over slow steps, the reluctance to depart in either direction clear to both parties yet Potter said nothing and Draco was slowly biting through his tongue with desperation to not beg to somehow prolong their lunch.

“So….uhm,” he’d begun, wincing as his new ‘female’ falsetto style tones came out far too breathy, yet heavily laden with… was that _longing_?

“I had a really good time,” Potter had interposed smoothly, smiling with just enough ease to make Draco itch to punch him… among other urges. “I’d like to see you again, if I may?”

Emotions warred briefly beneath the veneer of Draco’s carefully flattered countenance, batting his eyelashes and smiling just enough to show pleasure at Potter’s words, whilst inwardly striving for what seemed to be the ‘right’ reaction.

He was NOT this person, he had repeatedly told himself, he was not this woman that Potter had been carefully, if sweetly seducing all lunch long. He could not keep any date he set with him, would have to become her in order to keep it and if the fact that he had even considered doing it was scary, then the notion that he’d lie about who he really was in order to achieve it was simply beyond terrifying.

“I… that is… Yes.”

Draco had blinked at Harry’s wide and happy smile then, still reeling from hearing the assenting, stammered words flee his lips, not just from disbelief but also from the panic that had raced through him at the then obvious conclusion of their ‘date’.

Potter had passed him a card then, plain and unpretentious, simply his name and several contact numbers embossed in a no nonsense font that just ‘screamed’ modest saviour of the known world.

“Call me, any of those numbers, it doesn’t matter – you’ll reach me, just… Call, ok? Because I would really like to see you again.”

He’d nodded then, once, gently and, firmly clasping the card in his now oddly trembling hand, and turned to walk away, already knowing there was no way he could possibly ‘ever’ call Potter.

He had made it perhaps two steps before a broad, gentle palm reached about his waist from behind, halting his forward movement by pressing down, carefully holding him in place so Potter could press up close behind him, his chest to Draco’s back, his mouth hot and close at his ear.

“The thing is,” he’d started, his voice a rasp of abrupt sensual promise, the damp hot wash of breath tickling Draco’s lobe, “we could do it the right way, the usual way, where I watch you walk away and wait the standard, interminable three days for you to call, so you don’t look too eager of course, and then we can do the first few ‘proper’ dates 'til we slowly build to the point where it becomes … appropriate, shall we say?... for me to touch you.”

Draco had trembled then, suddenly breathless and seemingly aflame from the top of his carefully coiffed head to his horrifically stiletto-ed feet, unable to keep himself from pressing backwards into Potter’s body.

“Or,” Harry had continued, his voice deepening with amusement at Draco’s unconscious writhing against his body, “we could check into the hotel just across the way and spend the afternoon fucking like animals in heat.”

Firm hands had turned Draco so that his eyes were almost forced to lift and meet the now blazing dark gaze, the green of Potters eyes swallowed up by his widely dilated pupils.

“Well?” He’d whispered.

~

Draco sobbed, bucking helplessly against the steadily increasing onslaught, a dark, pulsating pleasure seeming to strum its existence into every cell of his body, insistent and rich with promise as Potter fucked him, deep and slow.

He had never been so turned on, usually by the time the sex had already started as it were he’d gone beyond the point where every moment was torturous bliss and moved into the more triumphal descent into orgasm but somehow sex with Harry Potter was proving that each and every second from that first hot kiss to the inevitable, craved completion was likely to be agony – and Draco couldn’t get enough of it.

His arms looped over Potter’s shoulders now, the brunet having sat up enough to wrap his own arms firmly about Draco’s torso, crushing him to his own chest so that with every thrust up into his body the breath rushed from them both and into the others mouths as they, bit, kissed and moaned their pleasure together.

Potter made every thrust count, pushing in with intolerable slowness, letting Draco experience every inch as it dragged against his insides, rotating his hips to make it burn just so before pulling back with equal tempo to begin the entire process again.

Sweat dripped from Draco’s nose, poured from his brows into his eyes, stinging, and with each lurch and buck of his body against Potter’s Draco could feel the glide of skin and it was so disturbingly, astonishingly intimate he found he couldn’t quite seem to draw breath, whimpering softly against Harry’s hot, slick mouth.

“Please…?” He whispered again, unsure of what it was he was asking for but moaning, sagging and exulting in the brunet’s strength as Potter tightened his embrace, cradling his suddenly lax form and pressing a surprisingly tender kiss upon his parted lips.

“Its okay,” he murmured thickly, words coming in brief snatches between kisses, “I’ve got you - Going to take care of you – Going to make it _so good_ …” and with a vague wave of his hand, the shackles at the headboard fell away and, dragging the blond even closer, Potter rolled them over and Draco dimly decided that ‘good’ just might be enough to kill him.

~

(earlier)

He’d stood just behind and to the side of Potter as he had paid for their hotel room.

The place was just expensive enough for Draco to not start wondering who else’s come might be on the sheets and fortunately as muggle as they came, so there had been no imminent fear of discovery.

They had slowly crossed the foyer to the banks of elevators waiting (and damn if didn’t make Draco even hotter to think all the people there knew just where & why they were going) to take them up to their floor, Potter’s hands on him before the doors had even fully closed.

“I should fuck you in this lift,” he’d whispered, wrapping arms around Draco from behind as he’d turned to press the button for their floor, then bracing his trembling hands against the cool metal doors as Potter filled a palm with a heaving breast, the other roaming freely – pinching, stroking Draco’s quivering form. “I wanted to fuck you almost from the very second I saw you in the lift back at the Ministry, seems like it’d be fitting if I did you right here and now.”

Draco shuddered, nearly biting through his lower lip with the effort of not begging him to do precisely that, legs quivering as he’d wobbled on his heels, his body forced to press tighter to Potter’s for balance and driving heartfelt groans from them both.

“… Of course, if I do _that_ …” Potter had murmured, as though deep in thought, “then I won’t be able to tie you up and watch you ride me 'til neither of us can breathe.”

His chest had heaved, nearly dislodging Potter’s caressing palm, mouth dry even as he’d croaked a response.

“That sounds… like… a heavy price to pay… don’t you agree?”

All thought left his head as Potter’s hand crept up and under his skirt to slide a questing fingertip beneath the tight, silky material between his thighs.

“Agreed.” Potter growled into his ear and then, with a rush of fresh, cool air, the doors had slid wide, signalling their arrival at their floor, their room just a few short, sweet steps away.

It had taken everything Draco had to not sprint to the door, dragging Potter with him by his most obvious appendage, heels be damned.

~

Spot danced before Draco’s eyes as he sucked down lungful after heaving lungful of hot, sex scented air, muscles screaming as he tried to hitch already slippery, straining legs higher up about Potter’s waist and whining when they wouldn’t hold.

“Want me closer?” Potter panted, his soft laughter huffing through his words, smiling even wider as Draco clawed desperate, greedy fingers along his side, attempting to drag his torso and still tentatively thrusting hips further down and deeper into him.

“Please, please…harder…. _HARDER_!”

Potter’s laugh was full-blown, his smile so dazzlingly bright that Draco forgot to breathe, shaking with effort as he attempted to draw himself upright, intent on kissing that beautiful, brilliant mouth.

“You really want this,” Potter muttered thickly, dropping suddenly to pin Draco against the sheets, belly to belly, one arm abruptly cradling his jaw, pulling Draco’s mouth to his almost tenderly belying the abrupt stab of his hips, pistoning himself into ‘Ruby’s all too willing body. “You really fucking want this.”

“God yes…so much…” Draco whispered, wrapping his arms tight as he could about Potter’s waist, clinging to him as he pressed the words feverishly into the hero’s lips. “You have no idea how much.”

For a moment there was no more sound than that of their tongues tangling wetly together and the almost obscene slick slam of Potter’s cock into Draco’s hole, their breath quick random puffs between new angles before sinking back into each other once more.

“Wanted you…” Draco whispered, casually imparting secrets against the brunet’s heated lips, “want you like this… in me – your cock in me – for so _long_ … god… didn’t know, didn’t know I did…. ‘til you smiled at me… god, _god_ … feels so good… _Harry_ …”

Potter lifted his head, eyes black and heavy with desire now, gaze locked on where Draco bit and licked his lips, lost in the sensation of heavy, hard flesh pumping steadily, slowly in and out. “I like hearing you say my name.” Potter said thickly, thrusting deeper.” Say it again.”

“Harry.” Draco tested the sound on his tongue before rolling it again, arching his spine and purring his pleasure as Potter stabbed his cock into him just that little bit harder. “Fuck me Harry…. _Hard_.”

And then he leaned up and bit Potter, smartly on his already swollen lower lip, before throwing his head back and near howling with ecstasy.

Potter was exactly as easy to provoke as ever and this time Draco was more than happy to take the consequences.

Harry snarled and lunged back downwards, snapping his hips back and forth so fast Draco hadn’t the time to do more than gasp before his mouth was far too busy, licking, biting and sucking at any part of Potter’s mouth, throat and face within reach.

“Take it then,” Potter snarled despite the somewhat giddy slant of his lips and still dancing, dilated eyes, “take it all.”

There was a brief space of time where Draco simply forgot to be. He’d taken a great gulp of air at Harry’s words and even before he’d had time to send the oxygen singing through his blood he’d been wracked with tremors, the pleasure scorching up his spine just too much to bear without just a little thrashing and screaming.

He heard his own voice cut off by Potter’s own moaning, grunting, greedy lips as the cock battering into his electrified body seemed to pick up in pace and depth, leaving him wide open for a fraction of a moment on each outwards pull that felt like the worst loss he’d ever endured and, even silenced by Harry’s tongue, he continued to wail its repeated absence despite its rigorous return at every juddering, bone jarring stroke in until he ran out of breath.

_This_ was precisely what he had been craving for so long, what he had known but had never _felt_ was missing from his life, and he’d have been in utter hysterics that it was Potter who was finally providing the such needed sensation if it hadn’t been _just so perfect._

He could feel the familiar pull of ecstasy rising in the pit of his belly and found time to be smug that his body was so well attuned to his wants – Potter made no effort to touch or stimulate his pseudo-form’s clitoris, oh no – _this_ was purely Draco Malfoy’s pleasure, quickly building to its emphatic peak because his body knew it had craved this.

A tiny pang stabbed, nothing more than a pinprick compared to his still mounting pleasure, but its presence was enough to make Draco’s lip quiver as he tilted his head to press abruptly needy kisses down the glorious column of Potter’s throat. _It’s nearly over._

“Fuck,” Potter moaned articulately, slowing his thrusts slightly to rotate his hips, eliciting a rather embarrassing mew from between their mouths as stars suddenly danced in Draco’s vision. “You’re so fucking hot like this…” He muttered; the arm not clamped around Draco’s waist reaching back to hoist his thighs higher, tighter about Harry’s hips. “…Can’t wait to watch you come.”

Draco groaned and clenched his body as tight as he could around Harry’s slick, hot hardness, bucking when the answering deep glide into him seemed to be hot-wired to his own phantom prick. He raked Ruby’s long nails down Potter’s flanks, growling at him between breaths, suddenly sick of waiting, biting again at any flesh within reach.

“Fuck Waiting.” He snarled. “Do it… fucking _do it_ to me… now!”

He found himself pulled abruptly back upright, sobbing his terror that Potter might be about to stop before shouting exultantly as his new position had him drop down, hard, all the way 'til his buttocks slapped neatly against Potter’s groin.

“Your wish,” Harry ground out, “My command.”

Deft, blunt fingers dug deep into Draco’s hips and thighs, lifting him up and down onto Harry with such increasing rapidity that all Draco could do was hold on, hands slippery, claw-like at Potter’s collarbone, scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase before finally wrapping one arm round to secure it in his sweat drenched hair, the other pressed tight to his chest, anchoring Draco as he found his own rhythm rocking back and forth in time to Potter’s up and down motion.

Draco rolled his head, heavy on his own shoulders, to cast an eye to the conjured mirrors, clenching his jaw in triumph at the image he saw there.

Potter’s arm, still looped beneath one of Draco’s thighs, still held it far enough aloft that Draco could watch the thick, red cock spearing into him, almost as fantastically glorious to observe as Potter’s low-lidded gaze locked on him, lit with something akin to worship as Draco wept with pleasure and bucked back and forth onto him. Had it been his own form, his own poor absent erection seemingly would have been slamming back against his belly as fast and hard as his heartbeat now, his own red lips been the ones now crushing themselves against Potter’s.

_Potter._

“You look… so fucking… amazing…” Potter whispered and Draco moaned, arching back as far as he could, ‘til his head was heavy with blood and the pleasure coursing through him warped his shape and soul and he simply couldn’t take anymore.

“Harry…” he whispered and just flew apart.

It felt like the muggle word he’d learned – detonation, as though a charge lit deep in his body flashed up and through him, drawing already agonised nipples into harder peaks, clamping muscles into stone and it seemed he forgot how to breathe, flying through his own hazy pleasure before reigniting at Harry’s own ecstatic shout and the sensation of thick, warm slickness as Potter pumped harder, _harder_ then slower into him, still rutting into him as they fell back upon the bed.

Heat blanketed them both as the blood raced to ease tensed muscles and screaming nerve endings, Draco murmuring quietly, nonsensical phrases as he tensed and relaxed his body about Harry’s unable to relinquish the sensation of mere moments before.

“ _…so good… so good_ …” He whispered, and then fell silent as Potter made the supreme effort to lift his head from where he’d collapsed, face turned into Draco’s throat, to press a frankly delicious kiss deep into Draco’s mouth.

“It really was.” Potter agreed when oxygen finally became more important than their soft, tangling of tongues. “Fantastically so.”

Draco made an affirmative sort of sound, butting his lips back against Harry’s having breathed all he cared to for now. He knew he should be making some sort of push to get Potter off him and get out of there, but Harry was still inside him and his lips were so gently worshipping and…

Potter moved off, and carefully out of him.

Draco was about to squawk his protest when he saw the regret etched into Potter’s face.

“I wish I could stay with you, here, all afternoon.” He said, sighing. “But unfortunately I have a very important appointment in roughly 45 minutes and I’m pretty sure I should shower before I show up there.” He smiled crookedly. “Can you forgive me if I run out now?”

_NO_. The answer rang clearly in Draco’s skull even as the post orgasm euphoria lingered, making all the sharpened edges of his pain seem soft and fuzzy as his brain scrambled for the appropriate response.

“Of course I can,” he smiled, if somewhat wanly, “Frankly I could use a bath and a quick nap myself… I’m feeling rather worn out.” He let a slight air of smugness enter his words to cover the growing bleakness that he knew would linger with him once Potter left the room.

Harry grinned, stepping into his trousers and yanking them quickly up his sweaty thighs, Draco blushing as he realised Potter most likely heard his soft sigh of regret as Potter tucked his now softening member away.

Potter pulled his shirt on and then, leaving it unbuttoned he swooped back down to straddle Draco, pushing him down against the sheets with body, hands and mouth, ignoring Draco’s wordless protest as Harry’s clothes dragged over his messy, sticky skin, falling silent as Potter kissed him into quiescence.

“I had,” Potter murmured, smiling between deep, languorous kisses “the most brilliant time with you today.” Draco smiled, unable to beat down the lingering satisfaction even as he knew he should remain aloof.

“I had a rather brilliant time too.” He purred, butting his nose gently against Potter’s, shifting his head so their mouths fell together once more, moments dragging by with hushed moans and soft lips until Potter groaned and forced himself back up off the bed.

“I _really_ have to go,” he groused bitterly, his smile belying his tone as he gazed at Draco’s rumpled form. “But this really was brilliant and I would really, _really_ like to see you again, see where it takes us, alright?”

He produced another card as if from nowhere, hunkering down to point out the numbers once again. “Seriously, you can reach me at any of these – just call me ok? Anytime.”

He stood back, buttoning his shirt and summoning his robes with one graceful sweep of his hand, smirking at Draco’s wide eyes. “Well maybe you should give it a day or so, y’know? Til you’re done with whatever bullshit you’re up to right now anyway.”

Draco gaped. “W…what?” Bullshit? What bullshit?

Harry sighed, nearly passing for pristine had he not stunk of sex and glowed with post coital glee, leaning down to seize Draco’s chin in one firm hand and lifting it to place another searing kiss upon Draco’s eager, if nonplussed lips.

“Witchsight is standard training for Unspeakable’s, Malfoy.” He said calmly, grinning and pressing one last hot kiss to Draco’s now frozen lips before straightening up. “And, not that the tits aren’t great, I’d really like it if you’d call me when you’ve got your cock back – I’d like to see if it tastes as good as it looks.” He winked and Draco finally remembered to breathe, gulping down the necessary oxygen to resume gaping and quaking at Potter’s retreating form.

He was ruined. His own personal saviour was also the very same person to have caused him his entire life’s misery – what had he been _THINKING_? Potter would ruin him; ridicule him, all his hard work was to have been in _vain_ and…

“Draco?”

Draco’s head shot up, lips pressed firmly together to keep from trembling, breath stuttering in his chest to hear his own name from those lips.

Harry lingered, partway through the door, his eyes and entire body inclined back towards the warm, desire steeped bed with Draco atop it. “I’m serious – I’d… I’d really like it if you’d call me. Would you do that for me? Tonight?”

His tone was firm, uplifting almost, his gentle tone still as commanding as the first day he’d addressed the nation as their Hero, but there was a soft, almost pleading _almost_ needy look in his eyes and a thrill raced over Draco’s skin.

“Yeah,” he managed gruffly, the sound all wrong in his female tones but Draco knew Harry would hear him in it. “I can do that.”

“Brilliant.” Harry grinned, backing out of the door as though he’d never paused. “I’ll speak to you later then.”

And, as the door clicked shut behind him, Draco’s smile was bright enough in the enchanted mirror to light the room.

“Brilliant.” He echoed giddily and felt something so like hope course through him he fell back against the pillows, still laughing delightedly when he fell into well earned sleep, Harry’s card, clutched tight in happy fingers.

Fin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language, Strong Language and Sexual Situations, Polyjuice!Het.  
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters from the Harry Potter books and films do not belong to me in any way and I'm making no money out of this shameless warping of their characters for my own amusement.   
> Dedication: For Calanthe, for her birthday :D


End file.
